by D. J. Manly
As he crawled into bed, he tried to tell himself to sleep but he tossed and turned. He knew when Vic came to bed, evidenced by the sounds of him straining out of his chair and settling down in the next room.
Brody stared at the ceiling. No more fucking jocks.
It was almost three thirty before he fell off to sleep.
* * * *
In the morning, Brody turned on his phone and checked his messages. For some he simply switched the callback number to the clinic, then called Sandra to find out how things were going.
“Things are fine with the patients,” she said, “but Frederick Stein has been a pain in the ass. He’s called here three times, and come by twice. He insists on knowing where you are. I don’t know what to tell him, Brody. Are you having a thing with that quarterback?”
Sandra knew he was gay. He’d told her a long time ago but he’d never told her about Frederick. “Kind of,” I muttered.
“Shit! I thought he was straight,” she exclaimed. “He’s always surrounded by women in the tabloids.”
“Yeah, well, never believe what you read. I’ll call him.”
“Good. Aside from that, all is well. How’s the soccer player?”
“A challenge.”
“He’s hot.”
“Yeah.”
“Be good,” she teased.
He was way past that. “I’ll try. See you Friday night. Want to get pizza after work?”
“You buying?” she asked, laughing.
“Yep. But no double cheese,” he teased.
She laughed again. “Cheapskate. I’ll be waiting. Got to go.”
“Okay. Bye,” he said. He stared at the phone for a few minutes then dialed Frederick’s cell phone.
“Hello,” a flirty woman’s voice answered. Brody heard Frederick mutter, “Give me that,” in the background, and then he came on the line. “Hello?”
Brody sighed. “Hello, Freddy.”
“Brody? Hang on.”
“You hiding in the bathroom, or is it a closet?”
“Where are you? And stop that.”
“I’m working. Stop harassing Sandra.”
“I am not harassing her. Is that what she told you? The bitch.”
“She is not a bitch. She happens to be a very good friend of mine, and a loyal employee. You have no respect for women, except when they’re on their backs.”
“She could have told me how to reach you, given me a number.”
“No, she couldn’t have, because I told her not to.”
“What’s the big mystery? Brody,” his voice softened, “baby, I miss you.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re lonely.”
“You know that girl means nothing to me.”
“Tell her that.”
“I miss your cock so much. I miss having you inside of me and—”
“Oh Frederick, knock it off. I’m working, and I won’t be around for a while so you’ll have to be content with your groupies. And we need to talk.”
“Talking is not what I need from you.”
“We need to end it.”
He laughed. “How many times have you said that?”
“But I mean it.”
“Where are you? I’m coming there. We’ll talk and … I promise, honey, I’ll—”
“Don’t go to the clinic anymore. Do you hear me?”
“I want to see you. I won’t rest until you tell me where you are.”
“I’ll be back Friday night. I’ll call you. We’ll talk.” Brody closed the phone.
“That was telling him,” a voice said in the silence.
Brody glanced up to see Vic sitting in his chair just outside the bedroom door.
“That was a private conversation.”
“Your door was ajar. Couldn’t help but hear. You’ll end up fucking him on the weekend.”
“Like I said, that was private.”
“Okay.” Vic shrugged. “Didn’t realize you were leaving me on the weekend. What about my therapy?”
“Coach will be here. I’ll leave instructions.”
“He’s not a professional.”
“He’ll just do light things. We need to work hard the next three days.”
“Um, I’m ready.”
“And no more fooling around.” Brody pointed at him. “I know you’ve been lonely since the accident, but…” He trailed off.
“Yeah, I have, but what’s your excuse for taking advantage of a poor handicapped guy?”
“You’re about as handicapped…” he muttered.
Vic laughed out loud. “Breakfast is on. Ready?”
“I’ll be right there,” Brody said.
Brody took a quick shower, put on his swim trunks and a T-shirt, and went down to join Vic on the terrace for breakfast. Claire had made French toast and there was fresh fruit and coffee.
Vic was being very charming today and Claire was relaxed. She put the pot of coffee on the table and disappeared, humming a little tune.
“She likes me, I think,” Vic commented, putting a piece of syrupy toast in his mouth.
“You’re charming her. Any reason Mr. Hyde has suddenly turned into Dr. Jekyll?” Brody eyed him.
“You did a nice job on my cock.” He started laughing when he noticed Brody’s expression darken. “Chill out, Brody, I’m teasing you. I’m feeling optimistic for a change, like I’m actually going to be walking again soon.”
“I’m glad,” Brody said. “Now finish up so we can put some action to those brave words of yours.”
“And if I make it to the end of that contraption today, do I get my kiss?”
Brody shook his head. “You’re going to get something all right if you don’t get moving. After breakfast, we’re headed for the pool.”
Things progressed well in the pool. Brody was determined to keep his mind on the task at hand, and Vic worked really hard at the exercises. Each time he paused and attempted some flirtation, Brody would get tough, and tell him to keep working.
He let Vic rest for a while. They had lunch and then they were on to walking. Again, Vic did very well, and Brody felt encouraged at the end of the day. They ate supper together and Brody retired to his room around eight o’clock.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Brody got up early and went for a run. Vic was sitting in his chair on the porch when he came back. “Hey,” he said.
“Good morning. You ready to work hard today?”
He grinned. “Of course. So, how is it going, this avoiding me thing?”
Brody wiped the sweat off his face with a hand towel he’d shoved in his back pocket. He looked up at Vic. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Brody walked up onto the porch. “I’m here to get you walking again, and that’s all.”
“If we want each other, I don’t see—”
“Spoiled little jocks usually don’t see,” Brody grumbled.
“Hey,” Vic said as he reached out and grabbed Brody’s hand when he walked by, “that’s not fair. I’m not your asshole boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I was out of line. Get your suit on. We’ll do the exercises before breakfast since you’re up so early.”
“Okay.”
Vic worked really hard during the following two days. They finished early Friday afternoon and Brody went to his room to pack his suitcase.
When he came out of the room, Vic was sitting near the door. There was a strange look on his face and he didn’t speak for a few minutes.
“What’s with you?” Brody asked.
“Mr. Hyde has come back.”
Brody chuckled. “Oh yeah?”
“Are you going to fuck him?”
Brody was taken aback by the question.
“Don’t ask me who; you know who,” Vic said.
“No. I’m going to end it if you must know.”
“I don’t believe you. Do you love him?”
Brody hesit
ated. He felt strange talking to Vic about this. “I … I don’t know,” he said. That was the truth.
Vic nodded. “Don’t feel guilty about leaving me here alone all weekend.”
Brody grinned. “You’re not all alone. The coach will be here, and so will Claire and—”
“Like I said, don’t feel guilty. Just go and have a great time without me. I’ll just be sitting here in my chair, dwelling.” He lowered his head.
A smile played around Brody’s lips. “I see.”
“Tears will be in my eyes, but like a brave soldier, I’ll hold them back.”
Brody stifled a laugh. “Vic, don’t hold your breath if you’re not awarded an Oscar for that performance, okay?”
Vic looked up at him with a grin. “Okay. See you Sunday?”
“I’ll be here,” he said, giving him a quick salute before he took the door.
* * * *
Sandra had done a fine job of looking after the clinic, and they had a great time together over dinner. She didn’t ask him too much about Vittorio Barilla and he was glad about that.
He called Frederick when he arrived home, and got the man’s message machine. He was almost relieved. He decided to go to sleep around midnight, but was woken up around two o’clock by the doorbell.
He knew who it was before he answered the door.
Frederick seemed sober for a change, even though he was badly in need of a shave. He had a concerned expression on his face when he walked in. “You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?”
Brody narrowed his eyes. “No hello?”
“Don’t fuck around, Brody.”
“I’m not fucking around,” Brody growled, half-asleep. “Why is it you always feel the need to come and see me in the middle of the goddamned night?”
“I just got your message.” He walked over to the sofa and shrugged out of his jacket.
Brody pulled the terry robe he’d thrown on tighter around himself. There was no way in hell he was fucking Freddy tonight, but that’s what he told himself every time.
Frederick turned and looked at him. “I know I’m a fuckup, but I love you.”
“That’s not enough.”
“You want me to come out? I’m a fucking football player. Do you know what that would mean?”
“I didn’t ask you to come out. I asked you to give up the women.”
“I don’t enjoy being with those women, Brody. I have an image to project. They expect it of me.”
“It’s a cop-out. It’s your way to hide. That’s all it is.” Brody crossed his arms. “I’m always the one who waits in the wings until everyone else has their turn. I’m tired of being second, Freddy. I want some guy to put me first for a change.”
“I will,” he said, coming closer. “I promise. I need to hold you tonight, Brody. God, I missed you.”
Frederick placed his hands on his shoulders but Brody pushed them away. “Not this time.”
“What do you mean, not this time?”
“It’s over,” Brody said, shaking his head. “I can’t do this anymore.” He walked over to the window and looked out into the darkness. “Please, Freddy, leave, and don’t come back.”
He could hear him putting on his coat. “You’ll regret this, Brody. You love me.”
“Good-bye, Freddy,” he managed, and a few minutes later, he heard the door close.
* * * *
He arrived at Vic’s later than expected on Sunday. Terrance Scott came out on the porch as Brody drove up the driveway. He lifted a hand as Brody took out his bag and made his way up the stairs.
“How are you doing, Montgomery?”
“Fine. Yourself, Coach?”
“Great. I wanted to tell you that Vic’s attitude has certainly improved. He did seem a little anxious today, however. He worked hard, though.”
“Glad to hear it. I hope to get him in shape soon.”
“How long are we talking?”
“At this rate, three weeks, maybe four, and he’ll be walking on his own, maybe with a cane, then retraining for the muscles. Well, that can be done with you … so…”
The coach slapped him on the back. “Come in. We’ll have a beer before I take off. Vic,” he called out, “the therapist is back.”
Brody smiled at Vic as he walked into the living room. Vic smiled back. “Hey, Brody.”
“Hey. I hear you were a good boy.”
“And you?” Vic raised an eyebrow.
The question didn’t go misunderstood, although Terrance Scott seemed oblivious.
Brody ignored the question. They sat around drinking their beer for a few minutes then Terrance Scott said his good-byes.
When they were alone, Brody asked Vic where Claire was.
“She and the hubby went to visit the neighbors. They play bridge.”
“Oh.”
“So, are you going to tell me about your weekend? Since I have no life, have mercy. Let me live vicariously through you.”
“Nothing to tell.”
“Did you see him?”
“Who?”
“You know who.”
“And you want to know because?”
Vic grinned. “Just curious. So, do I win my bet?”
“Were we betting on something?”
“You fucked him, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t.” Brody met his eyes. “Happy?”
“Actually, yes,” Vic said.
Brody’s gaze locked with his for a minute then Vic looked away.
“Is it over?” Vic asked, moving his chair around the room.
“I guess so.”
“Guess?” He stopped and turned the chair around. “Either you ended it, Brody, or you didn’t. You did say he was an asshole.”
Brody laughed suddenly.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just you, worried about my love life.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt. You’re a good guy, good-looking, sexy, kind, and you deserve to be loved by someone who will cherish you, appreciate you. You know?”
Brody swallowed. “I do now.”
Vic chuckled. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“I notice you kind of have a flair for the dramatic.”
“It’s the Italian in me.”
“Oh. Okay, I won’t be surprised if you break out into an aria at some time or another.”
“Opera? Please. No, I can’t sing. No worries.”
“Thank heavens,” Brody replied, picking up his bag. “Well, I’m going to get settled in, hit the sack. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay,” Vic said with a laugh. “Sweet dreams.”
* * * *
Brody woke up smiling, although he wasn’t sure why. He realized after he got out of the shower that he was actually glad to be back.
The week seemed to fly by with Vic making great progress, even taking some steps all on his own. They’d settled into an easy kind of back and forth, and Brody kept them focused on work. But he wasn’t immune to the exchange of glances, or the times Vic touched him in a way that seemed more intimate than therapy related.
Brody resisted Vic’s invitations to spend the evenings with him. Instead, he went to sleep early and ran in the mornings. He knew it was his way of working off tension, and he was well aware of what kind of tension he was working off.
When Friday rolled around, he took his time leaving. He sat with Vic, Claire, and Stan on the veranda and made small talk until almost eight o’clock.
When Claire and Stan retired, Vic asked him if he was intending on making the drive back tonight or if he was going to wait until morning.
“I am a little tired.”
“We had a good week, didn’t we?”
“You’re doing so well. You won’t need me soon.”
“I’ll always need you,” Vic said, looking at him.
Brody was about to say something but then Vic wheeled closer to him and placed his fingers on his lips. “Don’t say anything. Stay with me tonigh
t. I’ve been good. I haven’t tried to kiss you or … it’s not been easy.” He removed his fingers from Brody’s lips. “I think about you all the time, think about touching you and kissing you. I know I’m not supposed to but…”
Brody stood suddenly. He reached down and scooped Vic up into his arms and took him inside. He didn’t think about what he was doing, because if he had, he probably wouldn’t have done it.
He brought Vic into his room, slammed the door shut with his foot, and lowered him onto the bed. Their gazes met for a moment and Brody backed off just long enough to pull his T-shirt over his head.
Vic reached for him, brushing his fingers over his chest before grabbing his head on both sides and pulling Brody’s mouth down to his. They kissed deeply, the passion of it taking Brody by surprise. It was a kiss saturated with intense need, and it wasn’t one-sided.
Brody straddled Vic’s hips with his knees, Vic’s hands moving down his flanks and clutching his ass, smashing their groins together.
“Damn it, Brody,” Vic groaned, “help me get these bloody shorts off.”
Brody wasn’t sure whose shorts he was referring to so he reached down and pulled off Vic’s first, then removed his own as Vic impatiently urged him with his hands.
Both naked, Brody settled his body down on top of Vic’s again, moving Vic’s arms up over his head, and lowering his lips to the other man’s throat.
Vic moaned with pleasure. “God, you feel good,” he breathed. “Don’t stop.”
Brody entwined his fingers with Vic’s and continued to kiss his neck, then moved down to his chest where he licked around the circumference of both nipples.
Vic lifted his hips off the mattress. Brody could feel his erection bumping his own. Brody released Vic’s hands and rose up on his knees. He let his gaze wander over the other man. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, trailing his hand over Vic’s stomach to the base of his cock.
“No, you’re beautiful,” Vic said, looking at him with shining eyes. “Stay like that a moment, on your knees. Stroke your cock for me. God, do it, Brody.”
Brody smiled at him, taking his own cock in hand and stroking himself up and down a few times. He licked his lips. It felt great and it was turning Vic on something fierce.
“Look at me,” Vic urged, “look at my cock. It’s in convulsion.”
Brody laughed and leaned down to kiss the head.
